A Love Song to Mr. Hughes

My little white ass
wants you, Langston,
baby,
Langston, I want you.

Your cotton field streets
of Harlem
baby,
upset me, Langston,
you make me squirm.

(and I like it, I like it)

Those Weary Blues are
gorgeous sultry black
inside my eyes, my ears
and Langston,
baby,
I want it all.

And maybe I am
problematic, maybe,
maybe I objectify you(r
blackness) with this,
Langston,
but oh, all that I can be is
honest! Honest, I can't help it
honestly, I just, I
want you, Langston,
baby!
Langston, I want you!

These white walls,
this white skin,
my paler classmates
university-fed
on fresh grass clippings
lamp post songs
electropop
(but that is pretty,
too, I know)
and yes,
in here,
I want you.

My little white ass
wants you,
Langston,
wants your contrast
up against my skin,
my words,
my queer, your black,
I want you, Langston.
I want you.